So over the weekend the Director told me that I needed a chrysalis. To hide in.

For three days and three nights.

And she was right. As she invariably is.

Her track record of being right is pretty stellar.

So I listened.

And then, from deep inside of the chrysalis (which turned out to be a very sexy hotel room), I listened some more.

What do you wish I knew about your mission?

That was one of the questions I asked the Director.

Hoping that she wouldn’t mind being interviewed.

Her mission is mysterious and puzzling to me at times. Her devotion to me and my happiness is unflagging. Her passions are deep and all-encompassing. Being near her is both a wild rush and indescribably calming at the same time.

I love the Director. I love her and I can’t wait to become her, and a good deal of the time I don’t understand her.

Not yet. So I asked.

Here is what the Director said:

My biggest wish is for you to be able to enjoy the fruits of the unique culture that you have created for others.

Look at what you have made.

You have given birth to an impossibly beautiful and exceptional world of permission, safety, delight, wonder, sanctuary, fun, creative play, acceptance, belonging, grace, silliness, power, trust, curious and loving exploration, magic.

But you do not partake of it. Not really and truly. Not to its depth.

You give it. You set it up. But for others.

You make rooms of amnesty for their questions and their pain. You make peaceful Refueling Stations for them to hide in and blanket forts for them to create in, but where is this world for you?

You were the one. You are the one person who really and truly knew how to dream up this magical world and then make it a living reality. You were the one who could give it a home.

And not just any home, but the best and craziest and most fabulously outlandish home ever.

You know the most about this particular kind of magical world of play and exploration and sanctuary because of how desperately you needed it to exist.

But you still give it away instead of living in it yourself.

You create cultures where it’s the norm that sovereign compassion is readily available for each person there but then sometimes you still allow yourself to be the exception. As if you’re saying that it’s still okay for other people to put their crap on you because you’re the one who’s strong enough to handle it.

Sweetie, this world you have made is for you.

The world and culture of magical permission, safety and play is for you.

I want you to live in it. To soak it up.

I want you to breathe it.

To be at home in it.

And for this to be the norm. Not an occasional blissful perk.

I see you buying presents for me, doing sweet things so that I will feel welcome, and that’s a lovely thought.

The thing is, I do feel welcome. Always. That’s just part of being the Director. I am welcome in my world.

It’s you who doesn’t realize yet that you’re welcome too.

I want you to do sweet things for you.

Not as a way of investing in the future. Well, yes, obviously it is investing in the future. But what I would really like to see is you investing in the future through investing in you-now.

And not just so that you’ll become me.

But because you-now are worthy of living in ways that are congruent and harmonious with the culture of the world you want to live in.

Like it or not, you are the Director.

You’re the director of an organization, the owner of a successful business, both online and a physical bricks-and-mortar space. You’re the CEO of a company that you built from nothing, a company that does amazing things in the world. You’re a creative, talented, unconventional, innovative woman in her mid-30s who knows how to make stuff happen. It is unbearable that you do not realize this.

What would happen if you acted like it, instead of pretending that there’s distance between you and this person that you already are?

I want the day to arrive…

I want the day to arrive when you want to act like it.

When you’re comfortable being gorgeous, fabulous, strong, courageous, successful, radiant, humming your happy hum.

End transmission.

And then she told me to look left.

I said, now?

And she said: NOW!

And I looked left, and saw the exact thing I needed to see.

She told me lots of things while I was in the chrysalis.

What to ask. Who to talk to.

Where to have a drink, and why it was important not to bring my notebook.

She introduced me to all the right people.

We did hours and hours of old Turkish lady yoga in the dark.

We whispered secrets and ate surprisingly delicious snacks. We turned our breath into vibrating light. We hummed the magical hum until it hummed down into our toes.

I said, now?

And she said: NOW!

Playing in the commenting blanket fort.

The Director is a version of slightly future me.

Sharing internal dialogue and internal process is an exquisitely vulnerable experience. Much like a tiny, sweet thing that is just coming into the world, it requires gentleness, protection and a peaceful environment.

If you would like to Enthuse with me about how I, as the Director, signed the lease for the new Playground space yesterday, that is very welcome. Or if you’d like to hum… :)

(We now have about 7500 square feet of incredible space for creative play, for Rallies and for exciting new ventures and adventures that are in the works).

If you would like to talk to slightly future you or hold internal investigations of your own, this is always a safe space to do that. As always, there is no need to do it out loud. Calling silent retreat is fine.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. So if your stuff comes up, own it. Create safe rooms for yourself.

We make this a loving space by giving people room to have their own experience, taking responsibility for our experience, and not giving advice.

Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #174: Poor me, a cup! Pour me a cup!
• Friday Chicken #168.5: accidental wormhole (not a band!)
• Woman in search of a verb.

Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Oh man, big stuff is happening!

We have a date to sign the lease this week for the new Playground space.

(The current Playground is still going strong, the second one is bigger and crazier and will be the home for a fabulous new thing.)

We have a date to start painting.

Everything is moving. It is all very exciting/terrifying/wonderful. Anyway…. hello, week! Hello, very personal ads. I really need this.

Thing 1: Creating, entering and exiting a chrysalis.

Here’s what I want:

Yesterday my morning glow-sitting (that’s what metaphor mouse and I call “meditation”) informed me very emphatically that I need a chrysalis.

I may possibly have rolled my eyes.

More specifically:

It seems I have crossed some very significant internal bridges over the past few weeks, and now the Director and I are very close. The Director is the version of me who can run the new and gigantic Playground Cooperative that we’re opening.

She’s calm, capable, competent, confident, wickedly funny and completely, delightfully, unapologetically sure about what she wants.

She has the superpower of knowing that Nothing Is Wrong and that perfect simple solutions are there for the asking. She wears awesome shoes.

We’re really close to each other now. And the thing that’s needed is the biggest and most important step:

A safe and sturdy CONTAINER of three days and three nights of complete seclusion, during which I become her and she becomes me. Or really, I become more her and she becomes more me. Anyway, it’s a chrysalis.

Apparently this is what I get for thinking that a nest might be too over the top. Great. Something even more cheesy and dramatic. I find this hilarious.

Ways this could work:

I can do an OOD about this and get the monsters onboard.

The monsters are seriously skeptical about the whole thing, which is a sign that yes, it *is* as crazy as it sounds and also it’s important.

I could decide to go dark.

I could check into the Hidden Hotel.

We’re going to need tools. So tools!

I’ll play with…

Assuming that this is important and that it does need to happen.

Because information delivered via glow sitting always turns out to be worth listening to. As rigorous internal studies have shown.

And committing to finding a way.

Thing 2: Shhhh secretive invisible Playground play days.

Here’s what I want:

Today I’m telling twenty people — twenty people who live near the Playground and have already rallied so they know how to have strong force fields – about two invisible secret play days happening at the Playground this month.

One of which will include an Enthusiastic. Yay!

I am hoping that some of these beautiful people will be able to join me in playtime magic, even though it’s super last minute.

Because the Director said that this was the first step. And that it’s VERY important.

Wenn schon denn schon. Im kvar az kvar.

Ways this could work:

I’m making the wish and putting it here.

I’ll play with…

Resting in the hammock in the Playground’s Refueling Station.

Visiting the new Playground space and the current Playground space (soon to be the Playground Caboose), and talking to them about play.

Thing 3: Tu B’shvat

Here’s what I want:

This Wednesday is Tu B’shvat.

Tu B’shvat is the birthday of the trees.

Isn’t that completely delightful and magical and play-worthy? I think so too!
I want to celebrate.

Ways this could work:

Secret play day at the Playground, of course.

Dates and figs and almonds.

Visit the park.

Ask the trees.

I’ll play with…

Writing a love letter.

Like the one I wrote EXACTLY two years ago to the current Playground.

I just reread that one and did you know? Everything came true, only a million times better than I could have possibly imagined.

Thing 4: Answering the questions.

Here’s what I want:

I have some questions that I’m sitting with right now.

They need time and space.

I need time and space.

I want safe ways to go inward and investigate.

I want time and a process.

Ways this could work:

The chrysalis could resolve this.

A cafe date.

Planting the wish.

I’ll play with…

Doing Shiva Nata on it and generating some creative epiphanies.

Thing 5: Closing all the doors.

Here’s what I want:

There are still more things that need closing.

Still more doors that don’t need to be open.

Let’s move on this.

Ways this could work:

Lots of stone skippings.

Asking curious, loving questions. Patiently.

I’ll play with…

Asking for help from a Negotiator.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I had an ask about reconciling my desire for seclusion with my desire for community. Progress! Feeling good about the upcoming Enthusiastic and play days, and about my chrysalis as things that have emerged from last week’s ask.

Also I noticed that this week it was much easier to give time to Emptying and Replenishing, which gave me more space for being with people.

I wanted more overlap between the blog world and the PDX world and my roller derby world. Nothing to report on that but as the next bout gets closer I will update.

Then I wanted to fill out more forms (shhh, that’s secret agent code for doing yoga), and, ASTONISHINGLY, I forgot that I asked this. But I filled out forms like mad all week. So it totally worked. Yay. I re-ask this one, because it’s been amazing.

Next I wanted ERM (Emergency Recovery Mode), and that worked too! I feel terrific. And everything came together to help.

And I wanted to tell you guys about the end of Early Brunch for the Floating Playground. And I did. Today is the last day you can get half off tuition. We’re close to full. Maybe I will see you there.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Very Personal Ads #133: doobie doo just filling something out
• Very Personal Ads #132: The Wiktory! It Is Ours!
• Hi there, qualities of the voyage that is 2012.

In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Hey, Friday. Good to see you.

I’m getting better at remembering how this works.
Slowly, slowly.

Friday is picking up the Mercury. Friday is closing tabs. Friday is stretching to candlelight. I like you, Friday.

The hard stuff

The weekend.

The weekend was just really, really hard.

I’m going to silent retreat on the details, but hard hard hard hard.

Things that are lost and keep staying lost.

What an awful feeling.

Especially when you’re beyond beyond beyond beyond tired. Because then you can’t even begin to retrace your steps or figure out where something lost might be, or if it ever was there to begin with.

Not having a document that I need.

And then uncovering an old, painful stuck pattern at play that I totally thought was taken care of.

Not feeling strong.

There’s a certain vibrancy or vitality that cannot be present during depletion, and this is not fun for me.

My body really wants to move, and it’s also not ready to yet.

See also: that one dance class where I single-handedly demonstrated what it looks like to crash and burn ridiculously hard in public. With style!

When one thing isn’t working with my body, all the other forms and structures that hold my life together change too. Still trying to figure this one out. Getting closer, but sometimes close isn’t enough.

An uncomfortable realization.

It doesn’t translate well.

But basically….

Things are like this! I want them to be like that! But this is not news! But I still don’t like it! But I haven’t found a way out yet!

So this is what I’ll be playing with this week. Skipping stones, writing an OOD, finding out what I need to move through this.

The good stuff

The lost things found themselves.

They just appeared.

It was bizarre, but I am happy about it.

The superpower of Not Being Even Slightly Worried About Anything.

It didn’t come in the form that I was hoping for, but it’s still a really big deal.

At least now I know what that feels like. And the next step is to recreate that sensation without the accompanying tired.

Better news than I had even dared to hope for.

The bully from the Playground building is gone.

For good.

And I didn’t even have to do anything.

He removed himself.

The lease for the new space: it is so very close to signing!

Everything is looking great. The last round of lease negotiations went well, and I am feeling very excited. YAY!

Physical therapy.

That’s what Metaphor Mouse has me calling massage lately, so that I’ll actually set it up and make it happen.

Anyway, I had a spectacularly great physical therapy session this week.

Related: metaphor mousing saved my week.

I got lots of metaphor help this week, and it changed everything.

Meditation (something I love but often avoid) is now glow sitting.

LIstening to a yoga nidra recording is now internal sparkling.

Playlists for teaching are now secret soundtracks.

The process of “setting expectations” is now coming into the Practice Studio.

Anyway, metaphor mouse is how I got things done this week. And now I’m doing more of what I like, since changing all the names.

Spending time with my body and giving it loving attention.

A gorgeous partner yoga session (with Danielle as my partner).

Long, slow, old Turkish lady yoga at the Playground.

Magical, deep, circular yoga using symbols and words, also at the Playground. Something I invented after doing Shiva Nata. It was beautiful.

Progress.

Learning much more about how I want to live.

And about what needs to change.

Coming up with the perfect metaphor for that.

A brilliant session with Carolyn (remember when we had hackers?), and then help from Cairene too.

Also this helped me put up my castle in the Wish Room, and that made everything better.

Presents for the Playground!

Thank you thank you, everyone.

Extra thank yous to Laura and Foxy Jess!

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

1. I am Resistance Mouse!.
2. The second time I got fired.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is brought to you by Max, who is amazing, and who was at the last Rally (Rally!).

Sequencing the Chipmunk Genome.

They’re really loud. Except when they’re not.

And yes, rest assured that it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. You still have a chance to make it to a Rally (Rally!) in either March or June. Or September. Pretty much everything else is sold out.
2. There’s still HALF OFF on tuition for the magical Floating Playground. Good through February 5. That’s already Sunday, impossible as that sounds. Being at the Floop will be like Rallying Rally all the time.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #77: battle of the fake bands
• Friday Check-in #26: Abridged edition
• Friday Check-in #20: Snowpocalypse edition

Heeeey, February!

I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to see you, February.

Partly because this past January kicked my ass so hard that I’m excited about change in any form whatsoever. And partly because you are a symbol of incredibly special things that are happening in my life.

But anyway, I’m really glad you’re here. I’m really glad I’m here.

And maybe we can even rewrite some of the sticking points we’ve had in our relationship in the past. Who knows? Anything is possible.

Hi.

Let’s talk superpowers.

First, the superpowers of January that I want to take with me.

So yes, January hit like a giant train wreck in a lot of ways. And making my way through that experience has landed me some serious superpowers.

Here are the ones I’m planning on keeping:

The superpower of Not Worrying About Anything.

I got to this one by way of being so completely exhausted and depleted that worrying about things just seemed like another tiring activity that I didn’t have energy for.

So I’m taking the freedom of that. Taking the feeling of Peace Breathes Through Me that comes from extreme zombie tired, without taking the tired and the non-functioning.

And I’m also taking the superpowers of Flexibly Structured Morning & Evening Rituals. And the superpowers of Being Exceedingly Cautious And Discerning About What Input I Allow Into My Space.

The superpowers I’d like to experience in February.

The superpower of feeling joyful and generous.

The superpower of wanting what I want. Unapologetically.

The superpower of CONGRUENCE.

The superpower of emptying and replenishing, so that play can be really playful.

Things I’m looking forward to in February.

February is the birthday of the trees!

February is stomping through puddles in the park in my BOOTS!

February is getting ready for Now We Are Six, the birthday celebrations of The Fluent Self, Inc, magical pirate ship at large.

February is new systems.

February has Rally (Rally!).

February (this February) is the DAY OF LEAP! That’s the day that the Floating Playground finally opens. That’s the day that we have access to the new and much bigger space for the real Playground. All the good things! They are happening!

And then it’s March. And March is spring. For me.

Things I’m feeling apprehensive about in February (and my plan!)

Ugh Valentine’s Day, ugh ugh ugh.

That pretty much sums it up.

The plan? Avoid the internet at all costs. Maybe also have an open Play Day at the Playground where other Fluent Self mice can hang out. Do some Shiva Nata on LOVE, because love is amazing.

And just generally avoid the annoying pink-romantic-straight-culture overkill.

Sleep please please please please.

I am crazy determined to outdo my current record of two whole nights in a row of uninterrupted sleep.

The plan? Keep doing what I’m doing. Stone skipping, yoga nidra, tea, ritual, support, practice.

The big change.

Things are changing, and it’s big.

The plan? Mission-ready. Mission-ready. Mission-ready. And lots of breaks. Entry and exit.

Things I would like to experience in February.

Harmonious interactions.

Spaciousness and blanket forts.

Choosing carefully. Preparing for the voyage.

Excitement and glee about where this is all going.

Trust and permission.

Silliness and movement.

Clues and allies for February.

You know how I like to go searching for clews.

So here are five that I am choosing for February, without having to figure out what they mean yet or how they’re going to work together.

1. The money tree in the kitchen.
2. The hidden castle.
3. The Cascadia flag.
4. The anchor
5. The color YELLOW.

And five resources or allies:

1. Barbara Sher.
2. Suzette Haden Elgin.
3. Michelle Marlahan.
4. Keren.
5. The gnome.

Here we go. Flipping the page.

Here’s the February image from the Playground calendar.

Play with me? And comment zen for today.

You are welcome to write your own Hello, February.

You could write February a letter, drop off some gwishes, or give it a new name.

(If you like, peek at other months — July and August and September and October and November and December and January.)

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff. Because without sovereignty and spaciousness, this whole thing falls apart.

And we make this a safe space by not telling each other what to do, how to be or how to feel. We make room for each other.

Wishing you the most beautiful and supportive February that could possibly be.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• When things aren’t working.
• Friday Chicken #182: I believe in sandwich gnomes.
• Very Personal Ads #131: whoah-struck!

Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Thing 1: Outward and inward and outward and inward.

Here’s what I want:

All of my gwishes this week seem to be about my desire for community, and about my desire for seclusion.

I am convinced that these are not even slightly contradictory, and that they support each other in important ways, so I want to spend some time investigating.

Ways this could work:

I can make lists of things that symbolize community for me, as well as things that stand for separation, withdrawing and turning inward.

And I can practice things on both sides.

Some old Turkish lady yoga for inward. Convening an Enthusiastic for outward.

Also some shivanautical epiphanies could just make everything clear and obvious. Or at least show me what the next step is.

I’ll play with…

Giving permission.

Practicing the art of wanting what I want.

Thing 2: Speaking of community…

Here’s what I want:

Okay, so I talk about roller derby all the time.

About my relationship to derby. About how outrageously great it is.

And I also know a trillion people in Portland. Or maybe I don’t know all of them personally yet, but they know me through this blog. Hi, lovely people!

I want all of us going to bouts and yelling our heads off and having the time of our lives. YES.

Ways this could work:

Maybe I’ll set up a pre-bout meet-up.

Kay’s bar, anyone? Maybe?

That way, people who would like to come watch roller derby with me could meet up with me beforehand.

I’m more than happy to explain the rules or why a penalty is a penalty. And I promise I won’t try to recruit you. Unless you want me to.

Probably the Frolicsome Bar (that’s what we call our facebook page) would be the best place to set up an event like this and let people know. But maybe there’s another way that I haven’t thought of yet.

I’ll play with…

Planting the wish.

Possibly doing an OOD on it.

Thing 3: Filling out more forms. Yes.

Here’s what I want:

Filling out forms is my secret agent code for doing old Turkish lady poses.

Because that’s literally what you’re doing.

Filling. Out. A. Form.

Except it sounds so incredibly boring to fill out forms that my monsters don’t make a fuss the way they would if I were doing something sweet and loving like shhhhhh-slow-gentle-yoga.

This week I would like to fill out lots and lots of forms.

Maybe just one at a time. Maybe at different points during the day.

Ways this could work:

Paul’s non-sucky dvd, of course.

Using the Playground.

Before bed.

After Shiva Nata.

In between transitions and doors.

I’ll play with…

Inventing a superpower to go along with this.

Thing 4: Erm…

Here’s what I want:

Extreme Recovery Mode. Aka Erm!

Which, coincidentally, is also the sound I make right before I remember to yell “Silent Retreat!”

(And then I run away.)

Ways this could work:

Baths.

Soaking in hot pools.

Massage.

Not everything requires a response.

Hiding.

I’ll play with…

Going dark.

Ten breaths.

Permission and amnesty.

Thing 5: The Floating Playground! The last day for Early Brunch.

Here’s what I want:

This weekend is the last chance for extreme Early Brunch prices on the Floating Playground.

I want everyone who wants to be a part of the Floop (yes, that’s its nickname, apparently) to joyfully find their way there.

Ways this could work:

I’m telling you right now.

I’ll play with…

Putting the link here: TheFluentSelf.com/floating

Creating a supportive, creative environment of welcoming and belonging for everyone who wants to play. Yay!

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

Let’s see. I wanted an old laptop to play DVDs on at the Playground, and a bunch of you were crazy helpful! Still sorting out the details, but yay people who can help! That was amazing.

Then I wanted to focus on making eating beautiful. That was challenging, but it definitely showed up. I was more conscious about which plates to choose and how to arrange things. It’s on my mind. Progress.

The Playground (the live one, which is about to expand to a much larger space) needs ongoing art supplies, and I said I’d think about that. I liked Anna’s suggestion of an arts & crafts potluck picnic. We’ll have to see what that would look like. I might write a future ask on specifics.

I wanted smoothness with the lease, and the building’s owners agreed to all of the changes we wanted to make in the last round of lease negotiations, HOORAY!

And I asked for a joyful Rally (Rally!), and it was extremely, extremely full of joy. Yet again, the VPAs sneakily make everything better under the surface while I’m not paying attention.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #95: chickens on skates!
• Community.
• Object of Desire: Denver. You can help!

In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Okay, this is getting to be a little ridiculous. Time, stop with the flying. I cannot believe it is Friday.

But apparently it is. Again!

The hard stuff

The one night where there was no back to sleep.

Morning began for me at one thirty. That is to say, not very long after midnight.

And it stayed morning.

And at 5:52 that song came on and it was really too much.

Overdoing.

Working way too hard, preparing way too hard, wanting way too hard.

So tired that I couldn’t remember people’s names.

This never happens, because it’s one of my superpowers.

It was disorienting and alarming and generally not fun.

Zombie fog.

I don’t really have anything else to say about that.

If it hadn’t been for the sandwich gnomes, I might have fallen apart completely.

Waiting.

It is not the thing I am best at.

Sadness.

Also not the thing I am best at.

That one horrible thing that was horrible.

I’ll silent retreat on that.

Rally goes by way too unfairly ridiculously fast, you guys!

It was Rally this week. Rally!

And I LOVE Rally and it always ends too soon.

The good stuff

Making things congruent.

Like deleting thirty numbers from phone. And renaming other ones. Sneakiness!

Like depiling a hundred piles of iguanas and doom.

Like revising my system of Anthologies.

Ohmygod Season Opener ohmygodohmygod GNR!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have been going out of my mind waiting for roller derby season to start up again